Whistling Wizard
by Samsquatch67
Summary: "...Merlin pasted on a smile and resumed his whistling, finding gratification in the look of complete disbelief on Arthur's face..." Oneshot, no slash. Title comes from a ringtone.


**A/N: Just a very short oneshot - I needed to write something small to get back into the swing of writing. Enjoy!**

Whistling followed Arthur's every move, just as it had for the past two hours. Oh, how it was starting to scratch away at what little self-restraint he had this morning. Clouds covered the sun and the rain seemed to suck away every drop of sunlight from the sky. Not only was it a dreary day, and that was bad enough in and of itself, but his manservant would not stop with that high-pitched vibrating noise…

" _Would_ you stop that?"

Merlin looked up from his work and smiled, shaking his head and speaking through bared teeth, "You really don't know what it's like to just be happy, do you?"

Arthur all but sneered, "I can't say that I do – actually… Do you know what would give me the deepest sense of pleasure?"

Merlin tilted his head, appearing as though he had devoted all his attention to the king and whatever his next words would be, even though his arms and hands never stopped their motion of scrubbing the stone floor.

"Knowing that the horses' stalls had been mucked out twice today." Arthur wore a smug expression.

The warlock's jaw dropped – he couldn't believe the monarch sometimes. He knew he should have been used to these antics by now, but every once in a while, king Arthur was actually nice, and it threw Merlin off. He needed to stop expecting any kind of sympathy or empathy from this man… "But…"

"You said," Arthur butted in, pausing to breathe deeply,

Stammering, Merlin continued, "I just…" Only to be interrupted once more.

"That you wanted to make me cheery. And that, would be entertaining to imagine."

"I…" The servant let out a coughing sound, "did _not_ say that!"

"Actually, Merlin, I believe you did."

Merlin fumed silently, his good mood officially snuffed out. He was just about at the end of his rope… Which, of course, meant that something terrible was about to happen, because that was how his life worked, every single time. Scowling at the floor he as he cleaned, the young man mumbled a story about how he would need to save the king's life, and it would make him look like an idiot in someway, and from there he would probably get extra duties because Arthur was simultaneously oblivious and too-observant of faults… He slapped the wet rag into the half-empty bucket full of dirty water and picked it up by the wooden handle. No, he told himself, he needed to just let it go over his head. He could ignore his annoyance, as he had done many times before. Merlin pasted on the last smile he had and resumed his whistling, and found gratification in the look of complete disbelief on Arthur's face.

"Something wrong, Sire?"

Arthur snorted and opted for finishing his speech, dipping the nib of his quill pen into the ink and wiping the excess off against the edge of the glass. Merlin smiled and gave him the quiet he had wanted, busying himself with making the bed.

"…On this day we celebrate the…" Arthur waved his hand in the air and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "The what?" He tapped the pen against his desk and frowned at the parchment in front of him.

"Knights, and all they stand for," Merlin offered. "It is for the knights, in case you forgot," Merlin popped the 't' in 'forgot' and smiled. In response, Arthur rolled his eyes,

"I didn't forget. But you did give me an idea. Sometimes you prove you're not useless after all..."

"Thanks. That's nice of you to say." Merlin finished his chores in the room and walked to the door, letting out a soft huffing laugh. "If you need me, I'll be mucking the stables. Again." The young man looked at Arthur, trying to read his expression, waiting for any change. There was nothing. "Or if there's anything you want to say, in case I get kicked in the head by a horse. Or killed by intruders. Or Morgana puts a spell on me that drains my life force away…"

"I doubt she would waste her energy on a servant, Merlin," Arthur added half-heartedly.

"Ooh, you would be surprised. Who else would take the blows directed at your backside while your head is buried in the sand?" He beamed, bright, hiding the irritation crawling underneath of his skin.

Arthur, in his own distracted state, said, "You're incorrigible most of the times, but on other occasions you're unbearable."

"I'm unbearable? Who has to bring you every meal and make sure your chalice is full at banquets and changes your bedsheets? Who has to fit your post-festival body into pre-festivities clothes? Me. Your daft, 'useless' manservant, who has only fought dragons and witches and armies by your side, has accompanied you on every mission, followed your every move, which is more than even your most seasoned knights can say."

At that, Arthur let out a laugh. Merlin made his way to the door and gripped the handle, just as he started opening he heard the king speak again, saying,

"But you're right, about the last bit at least. Even as a child there was no one who gave me the support that you have."

The warlock's eyes glinted. "Does this mean I don't have to muck the stables again?"

"No."

Merlin grinned and stepped out into the main hallway.

 _Have a good day, gramercy and best of luck!_


End file.
